I Don't Want To
by yuminakashima132
Summary: Chuuya gets drunk and breaks into his ex-girlfriends apartment, filled with memories and regrets of the past. Mild angst. Written in 3rd person. Partly inspired by Alessia Cara's song of the same name [Chuuya x reader]


She had waited 4 years for him. He had to use Corruption the last time she saw him, and she was caught in a blast that left her nearly paralized with scars all over her body. She knew he felt guilty, knowing that your girlfriend was badly injured because of you must've not been easy to deal with. But at the same time, she wished he would've been there for her when she needed him most.

She left when Dazai did. Him being her best friend, she didn't think she could cope if she lost them both. So they left, went underground for two years before he had gotten her a job at the Agency with him. He became a detective, because of course he did. The smartass. But she didn't want to be out in the feild like Dazai, she wanted something more relatively calm.

One day, late one night, she felt someone staring at her while she was supposed to be sleeping. She recalled countless nights of being call into the field at ungodly hours when working for the Mafia had trained her to expect the rudest of wake up calls.

Though despite this, she really hadn't expected him to be there.

She honestly didn't know how to react. She could smell cheap sake wafting from him, over powering the usual an unusual cinnamon and tobacco, an unusual choice of alcohol compared to his usual French wine. Even just by looking at him, she could tell he was looking to get drunk the quickest way he could and succeded.

She said nothing at first, waiting for him to make the first move. When it was clear that he wasn't going to, she finally spoke "what are you doing here, Chuuya?"

She had tensed when Chuuya had started stroking her hair softly, having no intention of answering the question.

It was only when she grabbed his wrist to stop him that she saw his eyes pull into focus. And so she asked again what he was doing here.

"I really don't know," he said. "I just wanted to see you" his voice soft, pulling his hand away and placing it on her cheek.

"You had no problem not seeing me for four years, what had changed?"

He stiffened at the question, his eyes filled with an emotion somewhere between guilt and sadness. Perhaps, maybe even both.

"After your accident," he started, voice shaking "after Kouyou had informed me that you had gotten injured, they had found you in the wreckage in a pool of blood, I just couldn't look at you without destroying something. Dazai had threatend me, after the first time your heart had stopped. He said that if anything happened to you, after he had already lost Oda, there would be Hell to pay.

"After that, your heart stopped another two times before you were stable. You had so many complications that after everytime they brought you back, I couldn't bare to look at you without being eaten alive with guilt. And so I left you alone. Even after I stopped coming to the med bay, I still asked about you. I couldn't live with myself if anything happened to you, I couldn't be away from you, but for some reason I was convinced that my mere presence was enough to put you in harms way."

She didn't know what to say. On one hand she had been waiting for an explanation for years now, while on the other she had never felt angrier. But if there was one thing that stuck through every single one of Mori and Kouyou's lessons, is that never let the enemy read you. Hold the power, never let anyone take it from you. So there she sat, looking up at him with a blank expression.

And usually, Chuuya would adhere to the same set of rules. He would rather be caught dead than be seen having an enemy read him like a book. Drunk Chuuya however, threw that mindset completely out the window.

"Say something." He demanded, "anything. Punch me, scream at me, yell at me. Tell me how I'm a horrible person that doesn't deserve happiness after what I did to you." He sounded tired, like he was looking for an excuse to let all his emotions out.

She stayed silent for a while, just sitting there and staring at him. To him it felt like an eternity before she opened her mouth saying "I waited for you"

That seemed to catch him by surprise.

"Four years, I waited" her voice was as calm as a still pond. "Those nights when the morphine wore off and I was crying for you to make it stop. Or when the doctors said that I only had a 20% chance of ever walking again, I kept looking at the door. Waiting for you to storm in and yell at them that I was too stubborn to let anything stop me. Or when I cried in the middle of a physical therapy facility because I was so frustrated because it hurt _so much_. I waited for you to pick me up and tell me to brush it off and try again.

"Or is that too long ago to count? Okay, I'll give you something else then," she spat, glaring daggers at him. She had sat up on her futon by this point, gripping the hand that was on her cheek. Though he had turned his gaze onto the mat beneath her, unable to meet her eyes.

"I never would have blamed you for what happened, you know." She spoke softly, "from what I was told, we couldn't have even survived if you hadn't used Corruption. But I didn't know that yet. All I could think about was how scared I was. And how many doctors and nurses had to strap me down on the bed when I had a panic attack so bad I had to be sedated. All I knew was that I wanted you

"When I talk about you – and yes, I talk about you sometimes. People always wonder why I kept hoping for you to magically show up on my doorstep with a giant bouqet of flowers and apologize. And honestly, I never know how to answer that question. Because even though you broke me, and you left me without even a goodbye, I still love you with everything in me." It seemed as though they had traded places. Him looking at her with wide eyes, and her not taking hers off the floor.

Chuuya hesitantly shifted closer to her, her grip on his wrist had loosend considerably, allowing him to hold her hand in his. When she didn't pull away from him, he took a leap and reached to take her chin between his thumb and forefinger. "Darling, look at me"

When she did, when her eyes met those gorgeous blue eyes, he pressed his forehead against hers. They stayed like that for awhile, his hand gripping hers tight as if he let go for even a second, she would disapear. His eyes had lost that hazy look to them, indicating that he had become much more sober than he did before all this. All he could think of was that he had one chance to get her back, everything be damned if he screwed this up.

"I don't think I would ever be able to tell you how sorry I am, Sweetheart," his grip on her hand loosend slightly, only to start drawing small patterns on the back of it. "I tried so hard to get over you. I buried myself in work. If there was any gap in between work, I was always at a bar, or at the office just looking at old photos of us"

She didn't know why, but she smiled after he finished. "So it looks like we're both a mess without each other," she giggled.

His eyes brightened at the sound, it was still easily his favorite noise he's ever heard. "It does seem that way, doesn't it?"

"I know I have no right asking this," he started, "but do you think that maybe, we could pick up where we left off?"

"No"

His hands went slack against hers, stopping mid circle. He could've sworn he could hear his own heart shatter. He thought he would at least look unfazed, though his eyes betrayed him, a single tear rolling down his cheek.

Though, her hand brushed it away before it reached his chin. He was convinced she had done this out of pity, not knowing what other explanation there could be for such a tender action.

"But," she said, "I'm willing to try and start again"

Chuuya had thought he had been dreaming, hallucinating when the words came out of her mouth. Though, the small smile painted on her lips was proof of otherwise. And soon he had his own smile on his lips, grinning wide from ear to ear.

She didn't say anything after. She simply let go of his hand, kissed his cheek and laid back down on the futon facing away from him. His hand touched his cheek where you lips had been, half dazed and happy.

He looked at her and saw that she shuffled to one side of her futon, leaving space for him to get in.

And so he did, wrapping his arms around her and slept better in that one night than he did in four years.


End file.
